Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Marshall Islands and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Men They Couldn't Hang to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
The Stooges,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pet Shop Boys,
Chris & Cosey,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sixth Finger,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Sonics,
Circle Jerks,
Cymande,
Flipper,
Alice Coltrane,
Magazine,
Cybotron,
Bobby Womack,
Franke,
Soft Machine,
ABBA,
Bush Tetras,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Reuben Wilson,
Man Parrish,
Bluetip,
Lindisfarne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Cramps,
Neil Young,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scientists,
Whodini,
The Angels of Light,
The New Christs,
June of 44,
Derrick May,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Offenders,
X-Ray Spex,
The Busters,
Skriet,
DJ Style,
Wings,
Depeche Mode,
Cal Tjader,
Clear Light,
Fluxion,
Patti Smith,
Absolute Body Control,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jawbox,
Inner City,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Deakin,
R.M.O.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Blancmange,
Danielle Patucci,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fortunes,
Scratch Acid,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.